


Practice Makes Perfect

by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)



Series: Imagine Tony & Bucky [24]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, First Kiss, French Kissing, Have I Mentioned Kissing, Kissing, M/M, Mechanic Tony Stark, Pining, Requited Love, Tumblr Prompt, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 02:32:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3751081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaqen_hgar/pseuds/Finely%20Honed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span class="small">Prompt: tony/bucky some kind of wonderful au where they're best friends and bucky wants to date steve and tony's head over heels for bucky and bucky ends up realising he's in love with tony. I just really want a tony/bucky practice kissing scene!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>“But it doesn’t,” Tony said, attempting to wipe his hands clean on his overalls. “Make sense, that is.”</p><p>Bucky gave him the look, the look that meant whatever completely logical arguments Tony came up with would be tossed aside like so much garbage. But the look softened, and suddenly Tony realized how anxious, maybe even scared Bucky was.</p><p>“Please?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Practice Makes Perfect

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [【冬铁】 接吻练习](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7609072) by [dianamiao](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dianamiao/pseuds/dianamiao)



“But it doesn’t,” Tony said, attempting to wipe his hands clean on his overalls. “Make sense, that is.”

Bucky gave him the look, the look that meant whatever completely logical arguments Tony came up with would be tossed aside like so much garbage. But the look softened, and suddenly Tony realized how anxious, maybe even scared Bucky was.

“Please?”

Which was just dirty pool, really and truly, because how the hell was he supposed to say ‘no!’ now? He can’t, because when you get down to it, Tony was doomed. It’s not the worst, being doomed, but it wasn’t exactly great, either. He was used to it, though. He’d been doomed for years. Years and years.

Once upon a time, maybe he’d had a chance, but…

Tony sighed, and Bucky’s face transformed, relief washing over his features, the cock sure smile returning, and Tony could only wonder why life, the universe, and everything hated him so very much.

“I don’t understand how this helps,” he said, stomach fluttering with nervousness and sickness and dread and anticipation. He licked his lips, and tossed aside his wrench. “I’m not Steve.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I had noticed that, short stuff,” he teased, sliding off of the hood of one of the many cars in Tony’s garage, rubbing his hands together, grinning wildly. “But you  _are_  a guy, and the one person I trust most in the world, so… You’re it.”

“I am a guy, can’t argue with that,” Tony muttered under his breath.

Bucky took a step closer. “Not just that, you’re a guy who likes other guys. I need that sort of insight.”

Which, yeah, sure, but that was the problem right there. Tony rocked on his heels, shoving his still dirty hands into the pockets of his overalls, and stared at Bucky’s shins. He  _wasn’t_  a guy who liked other guys, he was a guy who liked one  _specific_  guy. As in the guy standing three feet away from him. Tony swallowed around his panic, closed his eyes for a moment, trying to regroup.

“If… I mean,” and that wasn’t right. Bucky sounded different, in a bad way, so Tony looked up. “If it’s that gross, or…”

“There is nothing gross about you, idiot,” Tony interrupted. “You’re gorgeous and you know it, so stop fishing for compliments.”

Bucky grinned at this, but his hand was still curled around the spot where his flesh and blood arm ended, and the prosthetic began. Tony wanted to kick himself.

“I just don’t get how practicing kissing with me makes it easier to ask Steve out on a date.”

He shrugged, kicked a lug nut across the garage. “He’s the first person I’ve been interested in  _since_.”

Bucky didn’t need to say, “since the accident,” because Tony already knew what he was talking about. And really, if Tony loved him, was his friend, he should be excited. Happy even. Showing romantic interest in someone was a really good sign. Around the same time a year before, Bucky had still been so depressed that it was all Tony could do to get him to climb out of bed, and here he was. Getting on with his life.

“Okay, okay,” Tony said with a sigh. “Just remember, kissing me won’t be like kissing Mr. Tall Handsome Blue Eyed Adonis, so when you hate it, just… Don’t base your decision on me, okay? I’m Mr. Short Not Much To Look At Socially Awkward Mechanic.”

“Hey,” Bucky snapped, brows drawing together. He was closer now, close enough to touch, and Tony’s heart was pounding away like the Energizer Bunny. “I’ll give you short and mechanic, but the rest is way off base.”

Tony quirked a half smile, shuffled nervously. He’d spent most of his life dreaming about kissing Bucky, and now it was going to happen, but…

“Okay, whatever you say.”

Not under the circumstances he’d hoped for. He’d always thought, someday, maybe, Bucky would realize that when Tony said, “I love you,” he meant, “I wake up thinking about you, and fall asleep thinking about you, and think about you every minute in between.”

It wasn’t even that he hadn’t tried. He  _had_ , but there were only so many times you could put yourself out there and have the other person seemingly purposefully misunderstand you before you took the hint, and just stopped. Bucky thought of him as his oldest, dearest friend, the little guy he’d known since second grade. A brother. A friend. And that was a lot, really, it was kind of everything.

It meant that Bucky had been there for him when his parents died, and he’d been there for Bucky after the accident. He couldn’t really remember a time when Bucky hadn’t been part of his life, the most important part.

The love had come early, even before sex was a thing to consider—he could still remember the fight his parents had had the afternoon an eight year old Tony had come home and told his mom that he’d made a friend, and his name was Bucky, and Tony was going to marry him some day.

Only that day had never come.

He’d tried with other people, little short lived affairs that never went anywhere beyond the bedroom, because anyone who spent any time with him figured out pretty quickly that his heart was already spoken for. And once Bucky had the accident, Tony hadn’t bothered with even that much, focusing instead on taking care of his friend.

Apparently he’d done a good job, because Bucky was feeling better about life, about himself. Better enough to have fallen for someone. The worst part was, Tony couldn’t even fault him. Steve Rogers wasn’t just a hot body and a pretty face, he was a genuinely good person, an all around great guy. He’d be careful with Bucky’s heart, would be patient and respectful—what more could he ask for?

Tony cleared his throat, and straightened his shoulders. “Okay, fine, you wanna practice, so let’s practice. Want me to stand on a crate?”

Bucky laughed, stepped right into Tony’s personal space, looking down into his eyes. “No. I like your height. Just,  _okay_.”

Bucky took a deep breath, and closed his eyes for a moment. Tony was in the process of reminding himself this was only happening because Bucky liked someone else—would be thinking about Steve, behind his closed eyes—when warm lips brushed against his, and he lost the ability to think at all.

It was more like nuzzling than kissing, noses brushing, lips coming into fleeting contact, and he inhaled, mouth opening in preparation of saying something, but then Bucky  _kissed_  him. Warmly, firmly,  _tenderly_ , Tony’s lower lip captured between Bucky’s, tugged, tip of a tongue tracing against it, and suddenly Tony couldn’t breathe.

It felt like a live current running through his body, and some small, hungry, desperate voice in the back of his mind said, “You might never get another chance to do this.” Which was the truth. And so Tony made a decision, and that decision was to kiss back, kiss Bucky as if _he_  was the one Bucky saw in his mind, behind closed eyes, as if any of this was for him.

Tony slid his hands up along Bucky’s arms, over his shoulders, took hold of him, one hand around the nape of Bucky’s neck, the other curled around his jaw, thumb stroking the lightly stubbled skin, and Bucky made a surprised sound, eyes fluttering back open.

That was better, so much better. He’d never closed his own eyes, was drinking in every last little detail he could, because this was it, it was all he’d ever have. One day, Bucky and Steve would be curled up in bed together, and maybe Bucky would tell him how he’d been so nervous he’d actually asked to practice with his dorky best friend, and Steve would laugh, and tell Bucky how he never had anything to worry about, and then they’d live happily fucking ever after together, and Tony would be best man at Bucky’s wedding, and…

“Tony,” he gasped, his eyes wide, but Tony didn’t care, shoved the sob down somewhere deep in his chest, and just used this as an opportunity to slide his tongue into Bucky’s mouth. He waited to be shoved away, for Bucky to wipe at his mouth, and ask him what the fuck his problem was, but that didn’t happen.

Instead, there was a strange sort of keening sound, and Bucky was holding onto him almost tight enough to hurt, each of them struggling against the other, until it was Tony’s turn to gasp. Bucky’s tongue slid hotly against his own, there was a hand fisted in his hair, and teeth against his lower lip, and they were stumbling backward together, until hard metal was against Tony’s back, the air knocked from him as he was shoved against the car.

“Tony,” Bucky said again, and he’d  _never_  heard his name said like that, not once in his entire, pointless life. Said like it was a prayer, and a curse, and a promise.

He moaned into Bucky’s mouth, holding on for dear life, trying to understand why Bucky hadn’t just stopped yet, why he hadn’t shoved Tony away, called him on being a greedy, pathetic, piece of shit, taking advantage of Bucky’s trust. Of their friendship. He wondered if Bucky could see it in his eyes, see all the minutes, and hours, and days, and weeks, and months, and  _years_  that he’d spent wishing, wanting.

“Fuck,  _Tony_ ,” Bucky groaned, and he was still kissing him.

Tony stroked Bucky’s face with his thumbs, holding on, not wanting to let go, gasping, “Bucky,” but meaning, “I love you,” as they slid along the car with a loud squeaking noise.

He grunted as he made contact with the side view mirror, Bucky yanking him forward only to shove him back once he was clear of the outcropping of metal, pushing him down across the hood of the car, pressing him down with his own body, and…

Tony moaned, arching up into the warmth and weight of Bucky, the two of them tangled and writhing and  _hard_ , holy  _shit_. He’d expected his own reaction, wasn’t in the least surprised that he wanted nothing more than to rub himself against Bucky until he came in his own pants, but… But  _Bucky_ was hard, too. Was groping Tony, humping his leg, and growling in frustration.

“Stupid, fucking overalls,” he hissed, biting into Tony’s lower lip.

“Huh?”

Bucky drug his mouth along Tony’s jaw, kissing, sucking, biting his way down to Tony’s neck, hand fumbling until he got hold of the zipper, and yanked, shoving the fabric apart, leaning back for a moment to stare down at Tony. Tony looked down at himself, as well, down to where Bucky’s hand had slid beneath his tank top, warm, and wonderful, and  _touching_  him.

But Bucky was blinking now, breathing heavily, and staring at Tony like he had no idea how they’d wound up like this.

“Hey,” Tony said softly, spirits sinking as Bucky shifted, moving away, fingers pressed against his lips, looking confused. “Sorry, I’m sorry,” Tony stammered, swallowing around his panic.

“Tony,” Bucky said, looking to him for answers. 

Tony opened his mouth, a dozen excuses ready to launch, but what he said was, “I tell you how much I love you  _all the time_ , but you never seem to actually hear me,” and yes, not good, this would be the time to stop talking altogether. “I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember, Buck.  _That’s_  the reason I thought this’d be a bad idea.”

And that wasn’t helping, either. Bucky’s hand was in his hair, like he needed something to hold onto, his mouth hanging open, eyes wide, and Tony felt awful, wanted to apologize for ruining Bucky’s plan by taking things too far. Could he be any more pathetic?

“But, um, no worries, Steve is a good guy, and, hey, I can vouch for you being a good kisser, you know, if you need references,” and ugh, yup, that was a sob, shit. Tony closed his eyes, and tried to get himself under control, opening them again so he wouldn’t kill himself in the process of climbing off the hood of the car. “Which, I get liking him, because he’s all tall and handsome, and I’m just…  _me_. Wow, this is embarrassing.”

“Tony,” Bucky said again, and he froze, staring down at his shoes, biting down hard into his lower lip to stop it from trembling.

“I’m so sorry. Please don’t stop being my friend,” Tony stammered, wiping hurriedly at his eyes.

Bucky took him by the shoulder, spun him around, and yanked Tony into a hug, which was such a goddamned relief. “You’re an idiot,” Bucky said, which sort of ruined the comfort aspect of the hug. Tony went to push himself free, but Bucky clamped down hard with the arm around his waist. “I’m never gonna stop being your friend. Ever.”

Tony relaxed, sighing his relief against Bucky’s neck. “Okay. Good.”

“I’m just… kinda happily surprised. How right that felt. Perfect, really.”

Tony squirmed. Despite the thrill that went through him over the word ‘perfect’ he still felt the need to apologize, but apparently Bucky wasn’t done talking.

“I’d… I’ve been convincing myself the past couple of years that  _that_  kind of thing wouldn’t work between us,” he confessed. “And then I had the accident, and. Didn’t really have much confidence, after that. Tony… I don’t know why it took me so long. Maybe it’s because you’re the most important person—the most important  _anything_ —in the world to me. What… what if we tried, and I messed up, and then I couldn’t have you in my life anymore? I don’t know what I’d do, Tony.”

Tony’s head snapped up, and he wiggled around until he could see Bucky’s face, see that he was serious. “You couldn’t mess up if you tried. Well, I mean, if you cheated on me, but… Wait, what the hell are you saying?”

Bucky looked terrified, and hopeful, was worrying at his lower lip with his teeth, his blue eyes bright. “I guess I’m saying I’ve felt the same way about you for a long time now. But… But I’m scared, Tony. I’m a  _coward_ , because you’re too important to risk losing, and…”

So Tony kissed him, and some of the terror left Bucky’s eyes. “You’re not losing me.”

“Promise?” But Bucky was kissing him back, making it hard to answer.

“Wait, what about Steve?” Tony asked, pulling away, his heart twisted the wrong way round in his chest.

Bucky looked guilty, smiled sheepishly. “He’s okay, but, um… I was kind of using him as an excuse to kiss you?”

“What?”

“I thought, you know. That maybe if it didn’t suck, you’d… maybe. Consider. This. Us.”

Tony stared, completely shocked, as Bucky shrugged, and smiled.

“So what do you say?”

“I say shut up and kiss me again.”

So Bucky did.

**Author's Note:**

> Some smoochies for your Wednesday morning!


End file.
